Closing for closure. Goodbye First National Tour.

Well...it's been awhile. I don't think I have blogged for well over three years, or longer, about my experience with Jersey Boys. After all, I haven't performed with the show since January 2010 when I took my last bow back home at the Fisher Theatre in Detroit.

I have no reason to write this blog entry, nor do I imagine anyone still "subscribes" to this blog - but I am writing this out for personal therapy more than anything else. If any of you are out there and happen upon it, so be it, and I hope you enjoy it.

I think though, once I publish it, it will be the last you hear from me about Jersey Boys.  That being said:

The first national tour of Jersey Boys closes tomorrow, April 28, in San Francisco, the city that started it all for that very same tour. No one from the original cast is still in the show (save for a few amazing tech folk and musicians) and yet, I feel like all of us from the original cast are still on that stage at the Curran Theatre with the current cast for the closing.

For me, Jersey Boys was a blessing. A life-altering show that made me grow as a performer and individual. That show saw me get married and give birth to one of my two amazing daughters. That show saw me travel across the West Coast for a year until I was lucky enough to be transferred to the Broadway company. That show welcomed me back with open arms to the Chicago cast (in an entirely different track) and then, coincidently, back to the tour that started everything for me to finish my incredible run back home.

And I will be honest. It was very hard to leave the show. I still fantasize about getting a call that a company is in desperate need for a Hank or a Norm or whoever, and who better to jump in than Gutman? I have had countless "actor's nightmare" dreams for over three years that I have been pushed back into the show without rehearsal time.

But perhaps, with the first national company closing, I can move on as well.

This is not to say that I don't think it was time for me to end my run. Chicago was ending anyway and I was lucky enough to be asked to cover for Buck those many years ago when he and Mary were having his first born. It was a string of coincidences and luck that fell into place which ultimately kept me employed for three weeks longer than my Chicago colleagues. Yes, it was time. I had performed in six different roles in three years, gone through more costume changes that I can count, and broken a different string on every bass or guitar (or mandolin) I played live.

But it still saddens me to think...to know...that I will never have that rush again of singing "Who Loves You" to a rabid audience exploding to their feet in applause. It saddens me to know I never get to stand next to Miles Aubrey in the second act on the back platform behind the fence together as the new seasons. It saddens me to know I will never get that call sometimes just an hour before a show saying I was playing a lead that night. It saddens me that John Altieri wasn't able to say "young, young man" thousands more times after his untimely death.



But how lucky was I...were all of us...that WE were the start of something amazing back in November 2006 as we took the stage for those first previews in San Francisco. Did we ever really know that we would make such an impact on the Country as performers? Did we truly understand what we were a part of? Certainly not saving lives, but without a doubt changing them. Changing our lives for the better without a doubt.

For now I can look to cast lists in Vegas and Broadway and see familiar names that I started with, still performing, night after night. And I know I can still call them friends...brothers...family. And yes, the weeks and months and years might pass where I don't get to see people like Doug Crawford or Erich Bergen or Tripp Phillips or Nate Klau or Sandy DeNise, but do I feel any less connected to them? Never. I follow their careers (and facebook posts) with such pride and love and respect.

For those of you in the first national who might be reading this (especially John, Chris and Kara), what an honor it was to come back all those years ago and have you welcome me back with open arms. I wish all of you an incredible closing night full of reflection and love. Let your voices shake the roof of the Curran Theatre and know that those of us whose spirits still share that stage and those roles with you are there as well. I hope the transition out of the show comes easily for you all.

To Des, Ron, Sergio, Danny, Kelly, West and to everyone else who helped create and maintain this show year after year, simply thank you. You took a chance on an unknown actor from the Midwest who just happened to have the look and swagger you were going for. I was in incredible awe of all of you. I hope my small part in the world of JB will always be looked at favorable and with a hint of a chuckle.

Lastly, for those people out there who have never seen this show, what the fuck are you waiting for?

Eric Gutman, officially signing off of this blog, and happy to get some closure. Thank you all for indulging me.